


Out of the blue

by Zombieheroine



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Cybernetics, Developing Relationship, Family Drama, First Meetings, Getting to Know Each Other, M/M, Shimada Brothers, Slight Canon Divergence, body image issues, merman au, merman!Mccree
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-12
Updated: 2017-02-12
Packaged: 2018-09-23 22:10:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9681503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zombieheroine/pseuds/Zombieheroine
Summary: Hanzo follows his brother to Overwatch in hopes of starting the rebuilding of their relationship. He meets his brother's friends and comrades who have answered the recall, and begins to find his place there. Some friends are more peculiar than others, and he learns that some lab experiments weren't exactly successful.





	

**Author's Note:**

> For last Christmas I did an art trade with a friend of mine (nappi.tumblr.com) who's an amazing artist. She painted something for my Transformers fic Uninstall, and in return I wrote this for her. She prompted me to write "McHanzo where Mccree is a merman". This was born, and it was a fun little experiment in this fandom. I hope someone else might enjoy this fic as well.

Hanzo never found out how exactly Genji had gotten a hold of his cellphone number, but regardless he got the message:

”I hope you've prayed enough. I have a place to go. You're welcome to come with me. I will wait for you at the airport for three days.”

Hanzo discarded the invitation on the first day, tried to forget it on the second day, and on the third day found himself making his way to the airport. Genji hadn't specified which airport, so Hanzo assumed he meant the closest one – coincidentally also the only one in the region, and he was right. 

To his regret he didn't spot Genji before Genji spotted him: Genji was sitting at a small table before a cafe, and when Hanzo spotted him his brother already had his visor turned to his direction.   
The featureless mask and the lit green visor were unnerving to look at, but if Hanzo had something it was composure, and he didn't let any emotion show through when he walked to his brother. 

The Genji in his childhood memories would have half laid on the table, but this omnic-like one sat with his back straight and a simple cup of green tea in front of him. The cup was filled to the prim and judging by the lack of steam it was already cold.

Hanzo dropped his light travel bag on the floor, pulled a chair for himself and sat down opposite of Genji. ”You shouldn't order things you don't like,” he scolded and pushed his hands into his blue sleeves. ”You'll end up simply wasting them.”

”Oh, I can't eat or drink,” Genji casually said. ”I bought something so I could sit here and wait.”

The simple piece of information about his new cybernetic body made Hanzo feel a wave of odd disgust. The person, if it was even that, sitting opposite him and speaking with the voice of a ghost was not human, yet parts of it were. The mixture was uncanny. 

”Oh,” Hanzo said. 

Genji's shoulders jumped. Hanzo's memory supplied him with an image of a voiceless chuckle. ”I have been here for three days, so you're late with your scolding. This is probably the hundredth cup of tea I don't drink.”

”Is that so,” Hanzo said, eyes clued to the green visor and frantically searching for any signs of life. ”What is your destination?”

Genji tilted his head like a bird. ”My destination?”

”I assumed you are going somewhere because you asked me here,” Hanzo impatiently specified.

Genji perked up. ”Ah, yes! An old friend called me, it would seem we have some work to do. And it's our destination now. _If you choose to accept it_ ,” Genji said, playfully adding the last bit like he was recruiting a new secret agent for an exciting and dangerous new quest. 

There was the Genji Hanzo remembered. He had changed and been hidden beneath layers of metal, but the machine didn't run too deep. Hanzo came to a conclusion and informed his brother that he would accept the proposal. Genji already had the plane tickets for both of them.

*  
The flight was a long and painfully awkward one. Naturally Hanzo and Genji were seated next to each other, and for the next ten hours they were stuck there, literally strapped still in each other's company.

Hanzo felt a painful swirl of murky emotion every time he looked at his brother, a storm of mixed and polarized feelings that weighed in his chest, clouded his thoughts and made his eyes sting, and he forced himself to stare at the cybernetic body and the metal mask until he simply couldn't anymore. Then he dropped his gaze, stared into his own lap and forced his breath to even, and once the storm had cleared he looked up again, the cycle starting anew. 

Genji sat with a composure he certainly hadn't had when they were younger, despite all their martial arts training, and this one wasn't quite that either; he had an alien air of serenity around him. No rebellious laziness, no wandering gaze, no mischief. The Genji he had known was dead. This machine was someone else. Hanzo was simultaneously pained, relieved and angry. 

”You knew I would come,” Hanzo said when the plane had completed its take-off and the discomfort in his ears relented. He was referring to their meet-up at the airport, a subject they hadn't addressed while there, but under the green glow the need to say something grew unbearable. 

”I didn't, actually,” Genji said and laughed a bit. 

”Then why – ” 

”I wanted you to come but figured you wouldn't get yourself moving until the last minute if you decided to accept my offer at all, so I bought the tickets for the third day. I figured that if you came it would look really cool if I already had the tickets.” 

The artificial voice production system the cyborg had replicated Genji's signature snicker perfectly.

Hanzo felt physical pain and wished he would have his bow at hand. 

His silence seemed to leave Genji disappointed, because a second later he said: ”Oh, come on! The look on your face was so worth it! Admit it, it was pretty cool!”

The green glow seemed to become brighter, and even though the mask didn't move, Hanzo recognized his brother's body language. He hadn't yet decided if this machine was truly his brother, but it was doing uncannily good job trying to convince him. The reach of the neck, the perked up shoulders and how he slightly rocked on his seat like he wanted to bounce were all there, and still Hanzo couldn't help but stare at the metal plating, complex joints of the hands, the light brown synthetic mesh peeking under the armor casing. 

Genji settled back, and something puffed behind his mask.   
It took a second to recognize it as a sigh.   
”Go ahead and stare. I know, I know. I'm used to it, and you'll get used to it too,” he said like a comforting promise and carefully nudged Hanzo with his shoulder. The machine radiated heat, slightly higher than regular human body temperature. Hanzo thought about days with the flu and fever of their childhood, and the burning, clammy skin of his small brother. 

He looked past Genji and into the blue of the clear sky.

*

Overwatch was very much familiar to Hanzo – both in good and bad, but mostly in bad. Their operatives had been a stubborn thorn in the Shimada clan's side, a one they hadn't ever quite gotten rid of.   
Even in Hanzo's life after failing his duties and tossing aside everything, Ovewatch had been there as rumors, rogue agents and wandering mercenaries. Having been a part of such elite organization had been a noteworthy addition to anyone's reputation, also both in good and bad. 

Hanzo had ran into some former operatives, yet only a week ago he wouldn't have imagined he himself would step into an Overwatch base. 

That was where Genji had been going – and for whatever bizarre reason decided he wanted his older brother with him – and there Hanzo was, in Gibraltar, at Watchpoint, and completely out of his element. He wondered if he should change his previous notion about Genji's lack of mischief. 

The base had clearly been vacant for a long time, and the previous residents had left in a hurry. Hanzo didn't know how to make himself useful or at least less out of place. He felt like one of the boxes and metal cases that were stacked around large, empty halls and rooms, just waiting to be cracked open and judged as to be used or discarded.   
He didn't belong there, but apparently neither did many covered up pieces of furniture or old equipment, and at least he possessed one useful pair of hands to haul in new replacements.

From the first light to way after dark Hanzo went and did as he was told: fetched suspicious shipments from the harbor, cracked open cases full of tech and sorted them by the type, did some heavy lifting, dragged out garbage, scrubbed floors and washed windows. 

When people encountered him and asked who he was, at first Hanzo gave his full name, Shimada Hanzo, expecting to be questions about his criminal past and reputation, but more often than not got in return a question: ”Shimada? As in, related to Genji?”.   
It was odd to be ranked as a footnote to your younger brother, but Hanzo soon learned to avoid too complicated replies and switched his identification to ”Genji's older brother”, and after a while simply to ”Genji's brother.” It was humbling and served as a self-inflicted punishment, but surprisingly Hanzo also found it liberating. 

One day, almost a month after arriving, Hanzo and Genji spent an afternoon together on one of the lower levels of the base, possibly below the sea level, scrubbing clean a large tank. The hall the tank was in looked like a laboratory, but like so many other rooms of the base, torn apart and chaotic. There were many sterile steel tables and file cabinets and scattered remains of lab equipment, but no computers, and there were large, clean square-shaped spots on the walls where in past there might have been refrigerators for samples.

Physical labor was almost a purifying experience, and Hanzo kept scrubbing away the algae and mud and mold until his hands burned and even after that. The tank filled almost half of the room and they had been at their task for many hours already, and Hanzo was currently on his knees, a hard-spiked brush in hand and trying to rid the floor of especially stubborn blue mold, when their work was interrupted: A blonde woman rushed into the laboratory, visibly in a hurry and looking for something.

Genji and Hanzo both raised their gazes from the floor and looked at the intruder through the glass-wall of the tank.

The woman stopped on her tracks when she saw them. Her hands flew up to her face and her eyes filled with tears. ”Genji!” she almost shouted. 

Genji all but jumped in excitement, dropped his mop and rushed to the glass, as did the woman.   
”Dr. Ziegler!” Genji said. They pressed their hands together with only the glass between them, and Genji hastily pushed his visor up. Both of them beamed at each other, clearly overjoyed. 

”Doctor, this is my older brother,” Genji said, gesturing over his shoulder.

The woman turned to look at Hanzo, and her tearful, glowing smile immediately soured into a cold glare that Hanzo had come to expect from those agents who were close with Genji. 

”You have a funny way to show your love for your family, Mr. Shimada,” Dr. Ziegler said to Hanzo.

Hanzo didn't argue, simply greeted the doctor with a stiff bow and went back to work.

*

Two more days of scrubbing and the tank was finally clean. Genji was especially happy on the day they declared it finally clean.

Hanzo's hands were both on blisters when they climbed out of the tank, and he wiped them dry on his blue jeans (borrowed from Genji and a bit too long for him)

Genji looked very pleased at the result. ”Look at that, brother! Squeaky clean! Not a hint of green anywhere!”

Hanzo nodded. The tank had been filthy when they had started. ”What do you plan on keep in that, though? A shark? A hundred koi?”

Genji laughed. There was a metallic echo accompanying the sound, something Hanzo didn't seem to be able to get used to. His spirit ached; could this truly be his brother? Could he be that lucky – or that much of a failure?

”We don't keep fish in this one! You just wait. Damn, it's been some time...” Genji mused, mostly to himself. He set his hands on his hips and sighed.   
Hanzo felt oddly nostalgic: The base was filled with vibrant, special people, and all of them were Genji's friends, but not his. 

*

The tank might have been clean, but the rest of the laboratory was still in chaos, and Hanzo was assigned there alone while Genji made himself useful elsewhere. Hanzo was supposed to make an inventory and sorted the equipment into usable ones and trash. The task took a surprisingly long time because the glass waste just kept piling up, and so Hanzo worked in the basement alone for days.

One morning when he came down to continue his work, the large tank he and Genji had cleaned was filled up with water. Hanzo stopped to stare and wonder why. He had assumed the tank had housed a variety of test subjects, perhaps cybernetic body parts in nanite-saturated jelly, but now it was full of water and, bizarrely, also housed an assembly of garden furniture made out of stone and tall, flowing water plants in heavy pots.

Hanzo stared. There were two white chairs, a round table and a divan in the corner, all under water. The sight refused to register and make sense in his mind, and so he opted to go back to work and not think about it.

Only the next day Hanzo was forced to think about it again, because first thing in the morning he got visitors in the down-stairs laboratory.

He heard them before he saw them, because animated chatter and loud laughter echoed from the stairs, interrupting his thoughts. He gave up counting the measuring glasses he had gathered and sorted, put down his pad and walked towards the stairs to meet the visitors, and just like he had guessed, Genji soon appeared, this time a new companion with him.

Genji jumped over the last few steps and gestured at the man with him. ”Brother! This is my best friend whom I haven't seen in almost a decade!”

The gesturing was completely unnecessary since Hanzo was already looking at the new arrival. It was impossible not to, since there was a lot of unusual things to take in.

The man was tall and broad, even taller than Genji, white and sporting a rather wild look, something that Hanzo associated with early American cinema. He had a somewhat ragged poncho around his shoulders and a flannel shirt peeking underneath it, a weathered stetson on top of his head, and in his legs on top of jeans some sort of riding gear made out of battered leather. The gear resembled light body armor protecting his calves and the sides of his thighs, and the leather shields were strapped with several small belts around his legs and with a few larger buckles to his belt. He had a smile on his face, a surprisingly well-kept beard and a mane of thick brown hair.

But the closer the man came, the more peculiar things Hanzo started to notice. His skin was glossy and shiny but dry, there was a strangle swing in his step indicating there was something wrong with his legs, and following that thought Hanzo noticed that the gear he wore on top of his jeans only looked like rodeo equipment: underneath the leather was a complex system of metal rods, joints and straps as if the man's legs had to be supported together and the man braced upright. 

When Genji and his friend stopped before Hanzo, Hanzo got a good, close look at the man's face, and it made him jump: all that he had seen from afar and thought to be body hair was not hair at all. From the pale, smooth skin stuck out hard, brown scales that gave the impression of a beard, and the mane of brown underneath the stetson consisted of gummy tendrils and scales. Hanzo blinked, and looked into the stranger's eyes. They looked back, brown and gold and and shiny and double-lidded. The scent of sea water lingered in the air, strong and fresh. 

“Hanzo, this is my friend, Mccree Jesse,” Genji introduced them, and Hanzo's attention snapped back to his brother. Genji was giddy and apparently immensely enjoying whatever reaction Hanzo was showing. 

Hanzo turned back to the man – Mccree Jesse – and cleared his throat. “Jesse Mccree. Pleased to meet you. I am Genji's brother,” he said and offered his hand. 

An amused glitter appeared in the man's eyes, and a grin on his face. A row of sharp, curved teeth shone behind his lips. “Nice to meet ya too! But what's your name?” he asked. 

Hanzo was confused for a second, then caught himself. He glanced at Genji's visor, then spoke again. “Shimada Hanzo.”

“Pretty name for a pretty face,” Mccree chuckled and gave Hanzo's hand a firm squeeze and a shake. “Thanks for cleaning my room, by the way!”

And with that Mccree marched to the large tank, climbed the ladder up and holding on to his hat dropped backwards into the water. 

Hanzo stared, and turned to Genji who stood with his hands behind his back and his visor turned towards his brother. Hanzo narrowed his eyes at him. “Wipe that smirk off your face,” he said.

Genji lost it and burst into laughter. A loud stream of bubbles from the tank joined him.

*

When Hanzo came back down the next morning, Mccree was still in the tank. It was “his room” as he himself had put it the day before so it was no surprise, but the sight was still very unusual. He was lying on the divan – or a bench, Hanzo was not sure – that apparently acted as his bed. He had gathered pots of water plants around it to give himself some shade in the harsh lights of the laboratory, and he had discarded the support apparatus of his legs, and along with it his trousers and other clothes.

Hanzo stared at the sleeping creature. If yesterday he had looked like a human when on two feet and fully dressed, now most of the resemblance was gone. His skin gleamed underwater, and the large, soft scales of his face and neck rose and fell with his breath. His mane of thin and gummy tendrils and light fins flowed in the soft current, looking almost like hair but not quite. What was most striking though was his body: his skin was stretched smooth and tight across his whole body, but it was pure and pale only around his head and hands. The base colour was white, and across his torso there were large spots where the colours varied from deep grey to silver and to brown, and black spots decorated his flank from his sides down to his... tail. 

He had a tail where yesterday he had had legs. A strong, sharp fish tail with brown, spiky fins, silvery scales and a split end that looked sharp like a scythe. 

While Hanzo stared, the creature awoke. The brown eyes blinked and after a moment focused on him. A toothy grin spread on Mccree's face, and in a flash he moved. A strong tail beat water and the large creature sprang into movement. Smoothly he flew through the water and a second later pierced the surface. He swam to the edge of the tank and leaned over it.

“Well howdy there, darling!” he greeted with a bright smile. “Fancy seeing you here!”

“I... work here,” Hanzo said, vaguely gesturing towards the boxes full of lab equipment he had organized.

“Yeah, Genji mentioned that. What I meant to say is it's nice to see you here,” Mccree said. “I must say, I didn't expect to see you, ever. Genji's told me a lot about you.”

Despite all his defenses, Hanzo felt a sting. “Yes, I'm sure he has. That is his right,” he said, moving towards the equipment he was supposed to catalog. He predicted he would be finished with it today.

The creature in the tank moved along the side to stay within the conversational distance. The powerful tail churned water. “Hey, I didn't mean it like that. I'm sure you... had your reasons, or whatever.”

Hanzo gave a dry chuckle and threw him a doubtful look. “You will excuse me when I don't believe you.”

The creature laughed. “Well... Okay, you might be right there, darling,” he admitted. “What I meant is that I haven't decided what I think of you yet.”

Hanzo gave the man (if that was what he even was) a measuring look. He picked up his pad and opened the inventory file. He had filed away all the clear measuring glasses and dishes, and now he had a half-full case of blue bottles. “That is nice to hear,” he said. “Are you close with my brother?”

Mccree folded his arms on the edge of the tank and leaned his head on them, apparently fully intending to watch Hanzo work. “Yeah, we are. We ran a whole bunch of missions together, back in the day. We haven't really been in touch lately, though. But yeah, we were best buddies back then, and probably will continue to be now that we've both answered the recall.”

“Uh-huh. And how come you are so close?” Hanzo asked, partially just making small-talk, partially seriously curious: he hadn't ever fully understood Genji's natural ability to make friends, and definitely not this new version's. 

“Well...” Mccree hesitated slightly, something Hanzo hadn't expected from someone with his energy. When he raised his gaze he noticed for the first time Mccree's gill slits, wide folds on the sides of his neck and on his collar, opening and closing in the air. They must have been dormant like his tail when he was breathing air.   
“Well, Genji and I have quite a lot in common. I wasn't always like this either, ya know.” Mccree raised his tail and splashed the water to make a point. 

“I must confess, I was wondering about that,” Hanzo said. Not really a question, but a hint of curiosity. 

“Yeah, I was experimented on. I'm one of those military grade science projects they did during the Omnic Crisis. One of the failed ones, though, so I'm the only one like this still alive,” Mccree explained casually, flaring his fins and splashing water. “The Strike-Commander and the Commander of Blackwatch were successful subjects, I wasn't. Those projects were continued, mine was terminated. So here I am, slightly mutilated, slightly with some special-needs.”

Hanzo didn't know what to say. The creature – _the man_ , he corrected himself in his mind – was smiling and didn't seem to be harboring deep regrets or resentment towards anyone, but his casual tone reminded Hanzo eerily of Genji's new serenity. 

“So. What made you slice up your brother?” Mccree suddenly asked.

A bottle in Hanzo's hand slipped, fell and shattered on the floor. His throat squeezed shut, his cheeks burned and yet his blood froze. This was his fault: he had pried into the other man's personal business and his past, it was only fair he expected the same. And yet... 

“I failed my duty,” he forced out. “That is all.”

He left his task and escaped the lab before he lost his composure any further. 

*

Genji knew the world was shifting and a new crisis loomed over all of the living beings, and yet he was happier than he had been in years. It was the recall, being reunited with comrades, friends and even family, and in his meditation he picked out every little thing that was good in his life, mused over them and gave them the gratitude they deserved. Having done that facing the inevitable difficulties was easier, and he could face even the most tangled up mess of a situation with a clear mind, take the first problem and gently persuade it to smooth out.

His family had always been one giant bundle of impossible knots, and in a way Genji felt that almost a decade of daily meditation was solely for the sake of his brother.

Hanzo was clearly still upset when Genji found him on the beach. He might have hidden it behind his impenetrable composure, stony face and absolute silence on the matter, but with Genji's trained eye and the knowledge only a close sibling could have he knew his brother was upset. 

Hanzo sat with crossed legs in the sand and stared ahead to the sea. Genji quietly sat down next to him.

“Jesse told me he managed to insult you,” Genji said.

Hanzo scoffed. “He did not.”

“Really?” Genji said. “So he didn't ask about our fall-out and you didn't storm out of the room to sulk here?”

Hanzo glared at him. 

“That sounds being upset to me. And when I look at you now, you seem upset too,” Genji added, careful and gentle. 

Hanzo scoffed again. His face was still furiously impassive, a dragon made out of stone. 

Genji sighed and turned his face towards the sea to mirror his brother. The rhythm of the waves calmed him. It felt like the world was breathing, steady and certain. He reached up to his mask, unhinged the visor and took it off completely. He saw from the corner of his eye how Hanzo tried to subtly take a look at him, and carefully kept his own gaze towards the horizon to allow it. 

“Jesse is a very frank person, and he uses harsh words to do away with awkwardness,” Genji explained. “On someone like you, who doesn't discuss anything ever, it doesn't work.”

“Hm. Predictably uncouth,” Hanzo muttered, sour. 

Genji laughed a bit, and saw how Hanzo turned quickly towards him to see it. Genji looked his brother in the eye and smiled as well as he could, the scar tissue pulling tight and the places where metal and flesh mingled feeling awkward. “You are defensive, big brother. But it's alright.”

“No, I'm not. I'm being sensible – “

“I can see how you look at me, you know. Like you can't stand my form.”

Hanzo's jawline tightened, and a look of hurt flashed on his face before he had the chance to hide it.

Genji sighed. “It's okay. I told you, you'll get used to this. I know it's going to take some time, but you'll see that this is really me, and even though I have changed, my spirit is still here. You saw my dragon, and you saw my eyes, that night. Your heart knew me. Your mind doesn't yet.”

Hanzo didn't say anything, just toyed with his sleeves, picking on the blue fabric until it started to come undone. He was tense in a way that was unusual even for him, and more than once swallowed hard, like he was chocking on something. 

“I failed you, back then,” Hanzo finally said, voice quiet and grave. “I wasn't able to return your honor to you.”

“Stop that,” Genji said, harsh enough to make Hanzo flinch. “I won't accept that apology. Don't apologize for not killing me well enough.”

Hanzo stared at him, pained and stiff. Genji looked back, unwavering and sad. 

“There's plenty to be sorry for, brother, for both of us, but my life is not one of those things,” Genji said. Hanzo swallowed again, even harder than before. Genji wished he could reach out and plug his brother's pain from his heart, like a weed from a garden. “You have my forgiveness already. It's all going to be well.”

They sat together for a long while, and only the rising tide chased them back inside. 

*

Hanzo didn't go back to the basement laboratory again. Genji completed the inventory for him, and he got to move on to new assignments. The base was slowly coming back to life, and Watchpoint started to resemble a functioning military base instead of a hollow carcass picked clean by scavengers and time.

Hanzo didn't quite know what exactly their strange bunch of misfits was supposed to be doing, and since he was an outsider even among these other outsiders, no one was too keen on telling him. Yet he suspected Genji had had a word with some of his closest friends, because on the following days Hanzo got considerably less nasty and cold looks. 

Even Dr. Ziegler seemed to be willing to give him a chance, even though she was still deliberately cold when she called him for a check-up. She simply rolled the sleeves of her blue jumper, then promptly scanned him and gave him a few shots of her “personal brand”, but despite her cold-shouldered attitude she was gentle with the needles.

“I heard it was you who saved my brother's life,” Hanzo said.

Dr. Ziegler crossed her arms and measured him with her gaze. “I am a doctor, I took an oath. And I despise all waste of life,” she said.

“You have my thanks,” Hanzo said. That was all his honor demanded of him, and now he had said it. Dr. Ziegler obviously understood this much, gave him a nod for recognition, and the subject was dropped.   
Hanzo could see Genji meant a great deal to this woman, but she couldn't possibly understand everything that had taken place in Hanamura a decade ago, couldn't fathom the situation or their culture, but for the first time it occurred to Hanzo that she might have understood something else. Something, that was beyond him.  
He didn't know if it eased his heart or agitated it further.

*

Some time passed and Hanzo returned to the beach. The presence of the sea calmed him, though he was not sure if there was something comforting in its steady rhythm or had he and Genji reached some sort of an understanding there by it, and he just hadn't yet realized it. 

It was late, but not yet the time for a tide when Hanzo wandered on the beach. Days at Gibraltar were still hot, but by evening the sand had cooled and Hanzo was almost tempted to take his shoes off, to relax a little bit. It felt like the white sand would go on and on as long as Hanzo desired to walk. 

There was someone else there, just behind a low rocky cape, and Hanzo saw him only when he walked around the point. Hanzo stopped.

Mccree was standing in the shallow water up to his knees, and his shirt, poncho and boots were lying in the sand. He had his bare back to Hanzo, and from this angle Hanzo could see his spine and a line of sharp spikes and a a thin fin stretching between them like a sail. 

An old friend called guilt lifted its head in Hanzo's chest. He had talked with Genji, but completely forgotten about Genji's friend whom he had rudely ran out on – or willfully forgotten about him. It seemed like the fate had intervened and planted the man he had slighted in his new happy place.

Hanzo sighed and walked towards the waterline. 

“Good evening,” he greeted when he reached the hearing distance.

Mccree turned his head and gave him a a sparkling smile and a wave of his hand. “Well hello there! I knew you'd miss me eventually!”

Hanzo scoffed but headed towards him anyway, as close as he could without the waves wetting his shoes. “I happened to come by. What are you doing here?”

“Oh, yeah, it's just that the sea is so much better than a fish tank,” Mccree replied, adjusting his hat. 

“Well, obviously,” Hanzo said, “I'm sure the two don't even compare.”

“Yeah,” Mccree said, and then went quiet.

They stood where they were, Hanzo on the sand and Mccree knee-deep in the water, both awkwardly shuffling on their places. Hanzo took a better look at the other man: the blue jeans he was wearing were wet, and he had his rodeo-masquerading leg-support apparatus on. 

Hanzo cleared his throat. “Listen – “

“Look –“

They both stopped and stared at each other, both having stopped mid-sentence, and both awkward and amused by the situation. 

Hanzo coughed again. “Please, you go first.”

“Yeah, sure, uh...” Mccree tangled with his words and kicked the water. His back-fin rose and folded in on itself in an amusing way. “I meant to search you out earlier, actually... I think I over-stepped when we last spoke, and I wanted to say I'm sorry. Let's star over again, 'kay?”

Hanzo was a little surprised. He had his own reservations about Americans, and adding to that he himself was the dishonored, traitor of a brother of his dear friend Genji, so he hadn't expected this much consideration from the man. 

“Please don't be sorry,” Hanzo said. “There's no need for you to apologize for my rudeness. You were honest with me and expected the same in return, and I slighted you. I should be the one apologizing.”

Mccree raised his brow, making the scales there shift. Then he broke into a grin. “Oh, yeah, Genji mentioned that you like to take all the blame on yourself! Or is that a Japanese thing? Genji doesn't do that, though.”

Hanzo rolled his eyes. “Genji isn't really a good example of a well-behaved Japanese man,” he said, not entirely joking.

Mccree sniggered. “Yeah, he also said you were a bit uptight.”

Hanzo gave the man a flat look and raised his brows at him, and when the other man returned his look with a sly smile, Hanzo made up his mind, toed off his shoes and started to pull of his socks. He rolled up his trouser legs and stepped into the waves.

“Well, I'll be damned,” Mccree chuckled when Hanzo made his way towards him. “I might give you another chance before I decide if you are boring, Shimada.”

“Please, call me Hanzo. You are casual with my brother, and after all, we're not in Japan. No need to be so formal,” Hanzo said.

Mccree's smile grew wider and he tipped his hat. “You'll _definitely_ get another chance, darling.” 

Hanzo didn't grace him with a response, just made his way to him even though he was shorter and that meant his trousers got wet despite his precautions. 

“So. Might we try again?” Hanzo suggested and gave a meaningful glance at the scales and fins on the man next to him.

Mccree got the hint and turned his bare arms with a chuckle. His elbows had large spiky fins that were the same colour as his tail. “Yeah, sure... But I think I already told you everything there really is to know. Human experimentation, torture, mutilation, failure, so on and so on. The full tragic backstory, if you will,” Mccree said with a shrug. “It's a real tear-jerker, but that's all there really is to it.”

Hanzo nodded. “I can see why you and my brother are close.”

“Aw, he probably gave you spoilers about my story!” Mccree moaned with fake disappointment, and laughed right after. “But yeah, I'm not gonna lie, it hasn't been easy, being a creature like me. But I can assure you, I am a man, and then some.” He winked. 

Hanzo was quickly coming to the conclusion that this man didn't have a gear for casual conversation, or at least not one without an automated flirting on the side. 

“Your spirit is strong,” Hanzo said. “That is admirable.”

Mccree laughed again. “Whatever you say, darling, whatever you say.” He paused and his smile toned down a bit. “How about you? You don't seem like a cold-blooded murderer or a cruel person. And Genji speaks very warmly of you. I thought he might just sugar-coat the story since he obviously loves you a lot, but now I'm not so sure.”

Hanzo felt pain in his chest. This man was too straightforward and honest, he wasn't used to anything like that and couldn't completely be rid of his cultural bias that said this was inappropriate. But Hanzo also knew he had wronged this man and the honesty he had honored him with, so he swallowed all his doubt. 

“Genji was a rebellious child that grew into a disrespectful young man. Our family carries a long and proud history and strict traditions. Anyone carrying the name of Shimada has one purpose in life, and that is to carry that duty and pass it on. Genji failed to do that, and the head of the family had to set him right,” Hanzo explained. The words were lighter to speak than he had expected, and when he looked up to Mccree, he saw no judgment or anger, just seriousness and will to understand. 

“And that head was you, then?” Mccree asked.

Hanzo nodded. “Yes. It was my duty to save him from dishonor. But I... failed. And it ruined me as well. Neither one of us is fit to call ourselves Shimada. There's no going back for us.”

A silence followed. Only the blue waves dwelling around them made a sound when they washed ashore. The sea around them rose and fell, existing around them like they weren't there at all. The sun would soon sink down below the horizon, it was already drooping low and its bright light had turned orange. 

Then Mccree spoke. “Come swim with me.”

Hanzo was taken aback. “What?”

Mccree gestured down at himself and then at the water expanding before them. “Come and swim with me. Just leave your pretty, blue things on the beach and I'll show you how I really look and what I can do,” he said, open and inviting. “Can you swim?”

Hanzo nodded before he realized that meant he agreed to the suggestion. “I'm... not great, but I won't sink either,” he said. 

Mccree nodded eagerly and started to make his way back to the shore. He grabbed Hanzo by the arm and pulled him back with him. 

Once they were back in the ankle-deep water, Mccree turned around and threw Hanzo a look that wasn't like his radiant confidence, but one that looked almost shy, vulnerable. Hanzo looked at him and at that moment knew he would go through with anything he was asked.

Mccree started to unbuckle the support apparatus from his belt. He unhooked it, then unbuttoned his jeans, and after that moved on to the many straps that bound the leather shields and metal rods to his legs. There seemed to be a very specific method to taking the thing off, and Hanzo forgot himself to stare at it, and only shook himself awake from the trance when Mccree started to pull his trousers down his hips and completely off, and looked away. 

Finally the last buckles snapped open and the leg support fell apart, and at the same time Mccree's legs lost the ability to hold him upright. He fell backwards and down on his backside, but didn't seem at all bothered by it: he pulled the thing from underneath himself and tossed it behind him on the sand, and then fought his trousers down and off.

Hanzo's curiosity won over his manners, and he looked down. He didn't know what he had expected, but regardless he was surprised: he saw nothing to be coy about even though the man before him was now completely naked because he was covered in scales and ridges, and even though the sight was intimate it was a grotesque one. 

With the jeans and the support it had looked like he had had legs, but what was underneath were really not. It was his tail, but split in half from the middle. The last thing Mccree discarded were shoe-shaped molds for his fins, which now uncurled from the cruel bundles they had been forced into. His scaly skin with its brown and grey spots and black dots looked like it had when Hanzo had a week ago seen him in his tank, but what he hadn't noticed was the middle of the tail. Where Mccree was cut in half had parts of the same cybernetic mesh that Genji's body had, and on both sides two rows of metal spikes that looked like they went together. Where metal was joined with flesh was a thick line of white scar tissue. 

“See, it's like a zipper,” Mccree said with a weak chuckle, gesturing down at his tail. Hanzo blinked and broke his stare to look the man in the eye and suddenly realized he was probably making him uncomfortable with his blank stare. 

“I see,” Hanzo said, not knowing what else to say. 

Mccree took a hold of both of his “thighs” and pulled the halves of his tail together. When the rows of metal spikes came to close proximity, they came to life like magnets would, and their many fine joints made them bend and slot together, and the sharp tips slid into the small holes pierced into the flesh on the opposite half. Mccree bit his teeth together when they locked down.

It was only a few seconds, and then it was done, and the make-shift legs had turned into a fishtail. Mccree wiggled his newly formed lower half and splashed the fins in the low waves. He sighed heavily. “There. So much better.”

“That looked... Difficult,” Hanzo said when he found his tongue again.

Mccree looked up to him and shrugged. “Yeah, it is. But an agent who can't walk on land at all would be pretty useless, wouldn't you agree?”

Hanzo nodded. 

Mccree's half scowl dissolved and his bright grin returned. “Well? How about that swim, darling?”

Hanzo had promised, he had to admit. He shifted on his place and glanced around, but the beach was vacant aside from them, and the evening was warm and so was the sea. So he straightened up and started to strip down, even though the whole time he felt the other man's eyes on him and his own face burning. He folded his trousers and his shirt, threw the pile on the sand, left on the undergarments and turned to give his companion an expecting look.

“Let's swim, then,” he said as calmly as he managed. 

Mccree grinned up to him, tossed his priced hat on top of the clothing pile and started to drag himself towards the deeper water, and Hanzo joined him. At first Hanzo's moving was easier, but when the water reached his thighs his walk got slower and steps heavier, where as Mccree got to dive in and use his powerful tail to speed himself ahead in the water. Hanzo saw how his gill slits flared and water started to flow through them. 

When the water reached Hanzo's chest, the other spun around and started to swim around him with effortless swings of his tail. The current tickled Hanzo's legs and sides, and he tried to follow the other man swimming underwater when he went by. Mccree flashed him a toothy grin and his brown eyes flashed in the evening light, and a primal shiver went down Hanzo's spine.

Finally the sandy bottom dipped so deep that Hanzo had to kick himself up to keep his head above the surface. He breathed through his nose, angled his body so his lower body didn't hang low, kicked his feet and rowed with his hands. 

Mccree dove up and to the surface, turned on his back and grinned at Hanzo's swimming moves that were rather clumsy when compared to a being with gills, fins and a tail. 

“Well look at you, you do swim!”

“Like I said,” Hanzo said, but immediately when he opened his mouth a wave hit him in the face and he swallowed a mouthful of salt water. His head went underwater, and he heard through the water a bubbling laughter. His feet didn't reach the bottom, his head didn't reach the surface, and just before the panic became more than a spark, cool, smooth hands covered in scales took a hold of him and hoisted him back up and to the sweet, breathable air. 

Hanzo coughed and spat out water and kept kicking, fighting to stay upright, but soon realized it wasn't necessary, since he was held up by two strong arms that were wrapped tight and secure around his waist. 

He turned to look Mccree through his own black hair that was clued to his face and half covered his left eye, coughed up some more sea water and gave a weak smile. “This could have gone better,” he said. “Not very graceful, I'm afraid.”

Mccree threw his head back and laughed. His soft scales and gummy mane tickled Hanzo's naked back. 

“Don't you worry about that,” he chuckled. “You're alright, Hanzo. I bet you and I are gonna become quite a pair in now time.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! If you liked this, give kudos or perhaps leave a comment. Feedback sustains a writer.


End file.
